


Legend of the Exile

by Muse_Of_Life (SweetToxicity)



Category: The Legend of Zelda & Related Fandoms
Genre: Blood and Torture, Demons, Emotional Baggage, Everyone Needs A Hug, Exile, Existential Angst, Existential Crisis, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Sexual Assault, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Implied/Referenced Torture, Injustice, Link is angry, Link takes a journey, Magic, Maybe romance but fuck if I know who and who, Monsters, Morality, No Sex, No Smut, No beta readers, Platonic Relationships, Plot, Slow To Update, Story Arc, There will be typos, Trust Issues, Vent Work, a bit bittersweet but still, caravan - Freeform, comfort comes later, dark and grim, evil is a vague notion, link ironically talks a lot but too vaguely for anyone to understand, link is a jokester, link is solemn, link talks only when he needs to, plot is a general idea and I'm just chugging on, righting wrongs, semi vent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-19
Updated: 2019-03-28
Packaged: 2019-07-29 10:31:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,199
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16262387
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SweetToxicity/pseuds/Muse_Of_Life
Summary: He did something he didn't regret. Not even in the slightest. Of course he knew it wouldn't be good, that it would be called bad. How he sees himself and how he's treated leaves a foul taste in his mouth.He wondered if he preferred that or the blood.(TW for heavily implied child sexual assault (He does get what he deserves though), mentions of torture, it's aftermath, and physical effects, and a very very fucked up Link. Adding on for the fact there's one moment of drugging but nothing happens to him since it's just him being put to sleep)He will always be the hero, though. Always.Was going to be a one shot and then I realized that this was too long to be a one shot. Too much planned for it. For him.





	1. Spurred

There was.. a trial. A brief one, of course, but there was.. amalgamation of an attempt for justice. The princess, bless her soul, even spoke for him, defending him. She cried for him, for herself, too young to bear the burden alone against eleven elders set in their ways. 

It didn't change the council's mind; those destined to be a hero didn't escape their justice, no matter what holy task he was given he would have to deal with it without their help. Even if he knew what he did was more right than anything the crones said, he knew that risking the kingdom was a power play. The princess wasn't even an adult yet, being twelve to his seventeen, and would take years before she would fit the throne. Rules were rules; he'd be tried as an adult, and in his place, Impa would increase her protection of the princess.

It was clear he was guilty. He didn't try to hide the blood or even explain his actions, stepping out of the king's bedroom with a sobbing princess by his side, clinging to him for dear life. He took the time to dress her, using his spare garments to let her find comfort in their weight. He simply held out his unarmed hands to the guards as he left the weapon where it landed in the king's body, saying softly, "It had to be done." His father was the one who had to take him to the cells to await judgement, and Impa was cursing fervently at the guards before ushering the princess somewhere safe.

They stripped him of his sword, his knighthood, and even his clothes as he was escorted down to the dungeons. He was certain if not for Zelda and his father's position as a Royal Knight, he would have been executed nigh immediately. Regicide has that affect on people.

Even now, hanging by chains, he didn't bat an eye when they brought tools in. He knew well what the consequences were for his actions, and the only thing he could feel was anger pit in his stomach and the hand cracking across his face. In no way was he going to escape this unless Evil Incarnate rose up again, or his five years of imprisonment came to an end. Five years seems short, yet it was reasoned that it would allow for the Princess to grow into an adult, the earliest she could officially take the throne. After that, he was sentenced to be exiled from Hyrule itself. Where he would go, what he would do, they didn't care. So long as he wasn't here.

He cringed as the torturer grabbed his face, recognizing the Sheikah hair and eyes immediately. "We're going to have some time together, hero. As painful as it is, we are the shadows of the royal family. Just like you, we have blood on our hands, even if it means breaching who we support. We can't directly disrespect the council, but know I take no pleasure in this." 

Link met their eyes, blue and red, before closing and grunting at them. He guessed that was as good as assent, because the sheikah turned from him and focused on their tools. Oh boy. He steeled himself, knowing that his scars would very soon grow in number. Politics in Hyrule were hectic; something he never cared for and always fell to Zelda to handle, he as her sword. Now, it was what condemned him to this fate.

 

The secret cell was clammy, musty, and had the acrid scent of blood, the only sound being his labored breathing. His once golden blonde hair now plastered to his head, sweat and blood staining it. Under his bangs, his eyes were dulled from the years of pain and darkness, emptily staring out at nothing. He once told himself he wouldn't have to worry about it after Zelda became Queen, she could pardon him then, but now he was certain the damage was done. He couldn't feel the desire to stay in Hyrule in his bones anymore, before they were broken, reset, and broken again.

He'd come back when the world needed him to, of course, but he didn't even know how useful he'd be at this point. The unnamed Sheikah sent every day and night to 'entertain' him would take breaks to unchain him and have him exercise, no matter what he had just been through. He clenched his fists, feeling his muscles ache. 

So much good that did him. 

His pointed, scarred ear perked up when he heard footsteps. Not the normal one, or abnormal two, but four people. Two of the steps were light, almost inaudible, but when you were awaiting sheikah visitors constantly, you could pinpoint them after plenty of practice. He patiently waited, lowering his head to prevent strain. One of the people wore heels, the clacking being clear to him, striking the ground in a set pattern. 

It was only a moment later the door to his cell opened up, Impa leading the other three after the other sheikah-the one who'd torture him day in and out- held open the door. Among them was a Royal knight, and of course, the Queen. As soon as she saw him, she pulled in a sharp intake of breath, but nothing else. 

He relaxed some, sighing in relief, though he couldn't pinpoint where that relief came from. He looked up to see her, eyes betraying her supposed neutral display with water threatening to spill forth. 

"Oh, Link.." She started, before Impa shot her a fast look, and she restarted. "Ex-knight, Link." He winced, but she did her best not to waver. "Since I was young, I've had a few goals for my reign, to unite the kingdom under one banner, to protect my people, and honor the Goddesses. As I've been crowned, I want to start with not only my most egregious error, but the council's and the Royal Family's itself most damning action." She spoke with her Queen voice, stern and perhaps more motherly than he would have guessed when she was a child. 

He couldn't help but laugh, a scratchy sound that was done in by years of silence and screaming. Their most damning action?

It threw her off, and seemed to unsettle the entire party. 

"Forgive me, my Queen," He tried, voice cracking, softer than ever before yet somehow packing the punch of the knight he was. "But the only error made... was that I didn't kill that bastard before he... hurt you." He looked up, eyes suddenly sharp and bright and cleared his throat. "That's what's damned the Royal family and me." 

He didn't care that the two Sheikah seemed to nod slightly, that the knight stood stiffer in place, but only that the Queen was at a loss for words. She clearly had had a script for this. A few beats passed as he stared right to her, gaze turning soft. "You aren't in the wrong. You didn't do this." He said, voice dropping in volume, and much more brotherly. "I'd do it again and again, even if these years here were double or even tripled."

Ever the stickler, Impa cleared her throat and Zelda jumped, immediately blinking away tears. "Either way.. I hereby absolve your charges and am personally seeing to your release." She said, voice wavering at the beginning, before steadying herself out. "Release him." 

Doing as she commended, his torturer took out a set of rusty keys. He couldn't help but think none of them looked like they belonged in here, not nearly as affected by the conditions as he was. The sheikah first went for his feet, unlocking him and letting him shift his legs, marred by burn scars. He tried to stand straighter, despite the pain shooting from his heels. Then his arms, which he let fall to his side uselessly. 

For a moment, he felt like he could go back to being a knight, knowing the chains wouldn't come back on him. 

But then his legs gave out and he was caught by the sheikah by him, holding him up and letting him face the others. "Take him up and get him clothed, a bath, and something to eat." Zelda said, fists tight by her sides. "You have my authority to use any facility to help him." Her eyes flicked to the nameless sheikah, "And.. To the medical bay. He's been through enough."

 

Not too much later, Link had his bones reset to proper order, bandaged and soaking in a tub. He kept dismissing anyone trying to help him, keeping quiet and ignoring the pain radiating throughout his being. At this point, being in pain was normal and having relief was almost enough to bring him to tears. 

The sunset was turning the soapy water orange, and he had learned Zelda was crowned at noon, so it had to have been a hassle to run to get him. He scoffed at her silliness; he could have waited a day or two, avoiding the party that had started immediately afterwards, and would likely run well into the morrow. He didn't want to see anyone he knew. Not that he was ashamed of what he had done, but he was ashamed of his sorry state. For all of the effort to keep him fit even through hell, he was winded by climbing the stairs he once pranced over chasing the princess.

Everything was pristine as it used to be; he couldn't help but see the clean marble tiles and think about the shattered bricks and mildew of the cell. It was so bright and clean and white and.. It hurt his eyes. 

He pushed himself up from the waters, murky from dried blood, sweat, and dirt. 

He didn't want to be here.

Pushing through the pain as he was used to, he carefully stepped from the bath, drying himself quietly. He had a towel, so soft and white, but it felt itchy against his skin. He dropped it to the ground and eyed the clothes he demanded be set out for him, so he could dress himself instead of being helped. 

There were three outfits on a limestone counter top in the bathroom, one being a functional tunic, green and stiff. His eyes neglected that familiar set, wandering to the next, a set of more higher end clothes, a doublet and gaudy shorts with painfully bright blues. Then on to the final one, something that made his stomach turn fiercely, a royal guard outfit. Gloves, hat, everything. 

In the end, he kept the towel and went into the bedroom they had for him, Zelda insisting he have a decent place to rest. To that end, he was grateful. But the choices of clothing, not so much. He dug around in drawers before finding the most simple suit he could, noting the only mirror in the plain room was covered by a cloth on top of the dresser. It was a dull grey, loose fitting long sleeved shirt that he tied too tight to hide his scars, and brown suede pants. He found flats by the door, which were meant to wander the room with, but he'd use them outside anyways. 

It took him a moment to debate checking himself out in the mirror, anxiety biting his chest at the thought. But he needed to at least fix himself up to look... Put together. That's all he wanted.

He limped closer to the mirror, putting his hand on the silky sheet. It wasn't dusty.. Did they put this here for him? So he didn't have to see himself? (To see what they made him?) 

He scowled, tightening his fist and ripping it off dramatically, letting out an angry yell as it fell to the floor. He glared at himself, now able to see the damage done.

The first thing he noticed was that one of his ears no longer had a point, and his earlobes were ripped open. He forgot so long ago that he had his earrings forcibly 'removed'. He had scars littering his face, small one meant to break his will. Burns traced his neck, meant to make him scream when he refused to. His hair was long, still wet, and he saw red stained into it, golden hair turned strawberry blonde from blood. He felt his breathing quicken, like it was someone else in his body. He looked like he was in a war, and in a way, he was certain he was.

There came a banging at the door, a concerned maid having heard his shout. "Master Link? Are you well in there?" With his silence, she called again, "M-master Link?"

He felt his veins flare up, and he wanted to scream again, anger, sadness, shame, frustration, fear, boiling up and scorching his insides. He wanted to scream. He wanted to scream. He wanted to scream, and bust the Goddess's eardrums for cursing him. He _needed_ to scream.

So he did.

 

It took more effort than he was willing to admit to get himself under control. His eyes and throat were raw. He was tired, and they forced him to bed, insisting he didn't need to dwell on it. He noticed they covered the mirror up, shutting the door. He wasn't daft enough to not know they were talking to someone outside, figuring they would put a guard there. 

He felt humiliated. He curled up small, aching and depressed.

Time passed, the full moon was out (He could see it turning red before he blinked it away), and he stared at nothing, mind running over everything and nothing.

There was a knock at the door, breaking his solitude, making him jolt upright and upsetting his body. He couldn't even move, and he wondered if he was high off of adrenaline earlier to be able to walk around. So he didn't respond to the knock. It came again, and again. Until he heard an aggravated sigh from the other side, and the door opening without his permission.

He didn't need to shift to see her, he already knew it was Impa. She would be the only one who'd walk in on him, being something like an adoptive mother to him. (And Zelda, both. She never let him get away with anything.) "I heard you threw a fit earlier. Gave a few of the maids quite the fright." She said slowly, as she walked over to the small bed, and he was sure her footsteps were louder than before.(For him? To not scare him?) Her eyes traced his frame, seeing where he was too thin, too mangled. He couldn't look at her.

"That was a bit rude, don't you think? I know you think yourself ghastly, but all I see are battle scars not unlike your past lives." She sat down on the bed next to him, and he felt her heat against his back through the comforter. "I need to clean you up. The pr-Queen will be standing against the council for you as soon as they hear about you." She gently touches Link's head, petting him softly, not shying away even when he flinches. They both know she wants to wait, to give him time, but they don't have that.

"I have my shears to give you a haircut. Maybe cleaning your hair up will make you feel a little better, or at least stop your mane from brushing tender spots." 

She urged him up, slowly, carefully, with plenty of motherly talking, (like he needed to be babied) got him to sit in a chair. It was clear he was uneasy, a part of him convinced those red eyes meant pain, and that those scissors weren't meant for hair but flesh. If not for her constant cooing, she was sure he would have bolted and hurt himself. 

She cut it short, to the nape of his neck, blending it upwards so he still had some length to cover some of his ears. Impa purposefully cut out the redder bits, making his bangs shorter than normal, and his sideburns something of a hallucination, no more besides vague scruff. Impa set her hands on his shoulders, staring down at the back of his head.

For a solid moment, they were both silent.

Link, for once, broke the silence first, raw and broken. "I'm leaving in the morning."

"Zelda won't be happy about that." Impa said with sharp nonchalance. When was she ever taken aback? 

He sat there, shrugging, "Yes.. But I.. I can't stay." (It hurts too much.)

She sighed softly, combing her fingers through his hair, scratching his scalp. At the very least, she noticed, they didn't get to maiming it. "That's fair, little bowstring. Just promise you'll say goodbye. To her." 

He blinked at the nickname. It brought back the times he was young, fast to react, and a huge trouble maker. In a brief second, he remembered stealing from the kitchen only to be caught by Impa. It always surprised adults how fast he moved, as she narrowly missed him when he ran into the garden. Funnily enough, she caught him by tricking him with more snacks one day, with the help of a certain nosy princess.

He snorted softly, pushing himself up from the wooden chair, limping toward the door. He opened it, startling the guard outside. Impa donned a neutral expression immediately, but he could see it in her eyes that she hurt. "I'll see you in the morning." 

She walked out, and Link pretended like he wasn't shaking when he closed the door.

 

He stepped out of his room, a bag on his back, and pointedly ignoring the guard's tired confusion. It was still dark out, and he limped down the hallway. The guard followed him, asking questions. He glanced at the solider, seeing that he was young; and he slowed his pace, which his legs thanked him for. "Sir? Mister Link, right? You aren't going to leave are you?"

He shrugged, wordlessly letting the guard escort him. (It wasn't because he could feel his ankle swelling, promise.)

"O-kay.. Uhm.. Should I tell someone..?" The solider asked, holding up their spear to keep it from the ground. After seemingly waiting for an answer and never getting one, the boy puffed up his chest. "Hylia's thumbnail, I'll just walk you out and then tell someone. I'm a guard! No one will ask you anything if I'm here!" 

Link chuckled, shaking his head slowly. If they didn't run into any higher ups, he'd believe him.

 

The pain in his bones was staggering, and while he was stubborn enough to not stop, the boy guard made him slow his pace any time he sped up. It took him far too long to reach the long and winding pathway down to the main gates, and he scoffed at the idea of actually using them. When the guard was wondering downward toward the main entrance, Link stopped him and pointed towards a shoddy staircase leading down to the riverbank with a bridge worn well enough to be known as the servant's entrance. The guard looked down toward the hero's feet, and Link immediately began walking without him. (Don't look.)

The boy yelped and followed him, rushing to get in front of him before the stairs. (Just in case, right?)

The sun was already cresting, the pink sky making his heart pound. (He could remember the time her magic was that color, before it became gold. He remembered the green, too.) He wanted to leave before he could be stopped. He stomped faster, his body a shambling mess, but he'd be damned if he wasn't going to escape.

He surpassed the guard, despite his protests to slow down, he sped up. It hurt, holy Farore did it hurt, but it felt good to be getting away and not running in a circle. 

He caught sight of carriages bringing in food for the castle, and his mind immediately decided on an action his old self would hunt him for. It was reckless. It was dumb. It was unnecessary, but it would work. He slowed enough for the boy to catch up, getting closer and letting his eyes pick a target. Then, before snatching away his spear, Link smiled at the boy. "Go tell Zelda my exile's begun." And he was off the last few yards of the hill before the boy could realize what happened.

His body began screaming, and he was pretty sure he was too, but he confused the guard and.. Generally everyone enough into staring for just a moment, just the perfect moment. A scarred, broken man with a spear charging at a servant would get reactions. Plenty of yelling and running, just what he needed.

The grey work horse reared up as he neared, and he naturally flipped up onto its back. He was sure it would be absolutely agony, but the adrenaline, and perhaps the power of his Triforce, prevented him from stopping or breaking. Using the butt end of the spear, he broke the horse free from the cargo, it darted forward toward the inside of the castle.

He couldn't have that, he turned the horse, and while servants tried to run in his way to get back the steed, and steered it toward the river. Guards were already coming, some obviously ready for action while others were groggy and slow. He spurred the horse onward, holding the spear and sweeping arcs to keep others from grabbing him.

The river was close, rushing up to meet him. He had faith the horse would jump; he didn't know why, but he knew it would happen. 

They soared, for a moment. Not as far, not as long as he needed, but enough. So when he felt water lick his feet and steal a shoe, he didn't stand confused. They were close to the bank and they could do it. He spurred the horse again, and it pushed for him.

He never really questioned it, but animals always seemed to listen to him. (A part of him now figured it was because he was one of them, that his Triforce made him one with them.) 

Up on the bank were guards, hailing Link, someone having recognized him and trying to reason with him. As the horse pushed up onto land, he patted it's mane lovingly, before once again bolting forward.

He didn't stop. He wouldn't.


	2. Onwards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He is the hero. This is the hero treatment.
> 
> He is the villain. This is the villain treatment.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This version of Hyule is based off of Breath Of the Wild's layout. I loved that game and how it portrayed the world. This doesn't have a specific place on the timeline at the moment, but I've wondered if I should give it a solid place. I know it IS post Twillight Princess in the Child timeline, but otherwise... `\ _(' -')_/`  
> Also, I have no beta reader. HMU with the stuff I missed or need to clarify, I've been told I suck at that sometimes, despite the best of my attempts to.. .Not. Do. That. The pacing is off because I don't intend for this to be that long, and once again, was meant to be a one shot.
> 
> Where there was once ruin, there can be a garden.

The pounding on the ground wasn't his own feet. It wasn't his newly claimed horse's. It was the beat of song, the rhythm of drums, the party for her Majesty becoming Queen. He slid the spear through the top fold of his bag, far up enough that no one was in danger of getting hit. The music drowned out the guards getting information to find him. 

The last time he was caught was by Impa. Sure, after he killed the king, but he wasn't running then. Now, he is. 

People were handing out food, flowers, singing songs. A few people spared him a look, edging away from him even in the crowd, but he was sure most eyes were on the Gerudo dancers, lovely women who mixed martial arts into their dancing. He'd always said he'd try it someday, and he thought back. Was the desert a part of Hyrule? He didn't recall, and besides.. That would probably be the best way to leave Hyrule. The sand storm was something he could deal with, if he could deal with this probably. 

But he'd be lying if he said he wouldn't miss the elegant simplicity of Hyrule's Castle town. It was a large bustling city, the apex of the common Hylian's architecture, which only ever paled to the Castle or home of the Zora's. Houses were close together, built as one building, while many businesses had signs and even changed the shapes of their roofs in a display of passion for their work. It was so carefree. As his eyes wandered, he spotted someone familiar.

A hylian girl with red hair approached him despite being yards from her stall where her older sister worked, holding up a bottle of milk. "Today only! Queen's favorite drink on sale!" She winked at him, "You know, to get people hooked. But you don't seem like the type who'd take it for granted.. On the house. For the Queen and the long day ahead."  

Her favorite drink wasn't milk, he almost said, it's fruit tea with honey. Because as much as she claimed to be refined even while so young, she loved sweet things more that plain things. He, however, loved milk, and took the bottle with a nod of thanks and moved on. 

As he went forth, he saw a parade, with magicians and different cloths for odd outfits all sending nostalgic vibes through him. Some were dressed as great fairies, dressed in dazzling jewels and vines, with various types of bug-like wings that lent them an otherworldly and eerie air, even as actors. They were dressed in warm colors, a tradition for the morning after parade. Meant to remind the people of their hopes and dreams, that there is always a morning after the dark of a new era. The person playing an ancient Zelda dressed in purple and orange looked like a goddess (she is, even if just her spirit.), offering peace to her people. Above them was a man in a green suit and balloon, throwing out flyers one of which he caught. He looked at it to see a poor rendition of a theater play about what he guessed was one of the old heroes. 

He.. couldn't tell with. There were fairies, and a wolf, and he was pretty sure those two never crossed in his lives. He released the piece of paper and let it flutter away. He glanced down to his horse, petting it softly as they came around a corner. It was doing rather well for the.. Events that transpired. He could tell it was older, maybe an old war horse that was retired? He didn't see scars, but he didn't know when the last time Hyrule was at war either.

He was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard someone yell, "Thief! There he is! Catch him!" and pointing suspiciously at his direction. It was the person he stole the horse from, flanked by two guards who ordered people to part as the ran toward him. 

Ah, hell.

He flicked the reigns of the horse, who immediately began to move. People jumped out of his way, and he glanced towards the parade..

Zelda, Hylia, forgive him, but he was about to ruin a party.

Jerking the reigns, his steed responded immediately and darted into the wide berth the crowd gave the paraders. The could be caught up with fast here, but he could move and maneuver with room. Gerudo shrieked and ran out of the way, cursing after him with mouths of sailors, and actors diving to keep from being stampeded.

He felt the hard stomp of the brick under his horse's steps, rocking his body with every hoof connection. Shouts were raised up and he made to leave, going directly for the main gates. Link didn't care if he was messing up, making himself look worse, he was sure he felt worse. He thought he wasn't going to be worse for the wear, not this bad. He sorely underestimated how scarred he'd be, inside and out.

Being an ageless hero didn't grant you the wisdom to expect this.

He felt like he was flying(for a brief moment, he felt feathers and saw clouds within reach), and he tore out the spear from his bag. 

He didn't know how he noticed it, but he heard even more hooves on the way, close, getting closer. Even as he sped past houses and stores, he felt something primal in him from the oncoming guards.

Excitement, trepidation, anger.

They wouldn't do this for a normal thief. Either Impa, Zelda, or his Father meant to catch him. Only one of them would be at the festival this early. 

He felt more adrenaline pump through him, (how much could his body make before he became numb to it? Or was he just numb to the pain?) and let out a feral yell, holding up the spear. If people weren't moving before, they were now. 

He was approaching the gates, and now he could look back and see the royal guard after him. His heart ached.

Not stopping. Not slowing down. He knew something was up, hearing one of them yell orders to the other to keep him from straying. It was only when he saw a bulky white and gold horse step out from beyond the gates did he get it. The knight atop it was the head of the royal guard, always where the kingdom needed him to be the most at the right time. He always joked about having a sixth sense for it.

That night fives years ago and now made Link wonder if his Father was joking or if he was being serious.

He hated that he would see him like this. (Not with pride, he could see the stern look on his face. 'don't look at me like that')

"Halt!" He called, voice booming, far louder than Link was capable of being. His teeth ground together, discipline taking a back seat. 

Seeing that he didn't even slow down, his father drew his sword. ('Hyrule before Family' never meant so much until now, he thought)

He was out of practice, and battling his father, someone who used to be a challenge to his fit self, was a terrible idea. He watched him, eyes glued to him. By the lack of arrows, he knew he wouldn't be killed or hunted for too long, not until Zelda gave the official order. He flipped his hold on the spear, approaching him too fast to make it easy. He was weary, he just wanted to be asleep and away from it all. 

His palm was upwards, holding the spear like a javelin. It was a dumb move, to be rid of the only weapon he had with the world full of monsters, but he didn't want to fight his father. He didn't want that to be a part of his story.

So as he got closer, he knew his father would see it, would know, and react. What else could he do, when a spear flies at his chest? 

He parried it, blue grey eyes widening in shock. He barely knocked it away in time, stunned by the act, and the spear went right into the ground, sticking up at an angle he was sure someone would have trouble with. With that brief moment of freedom bought, he rode as hard as he could past him, hearing him yell.

"Link! Come back! You don't have t-" Link lost his voice to the world beyond, not slowing down and letting his father's voice disappear, letting the castle grow from a pinnacle into a silhouette. 

Only when he could feel his horse grow weary did he think to stop. He led it to a stream, finding a large tree log collapsed into an overhang, not an uncommon sight in Hyrule. He got off, sat down, and felt himself shiver. He let it all weigh on him as he laid there, closing his eyes into a restless sleep.

 

Hours had passed, and the Queen had her hands folded together. Silently awaiting news. In her throne, she looked to Impa, standing stoically. The air was tense and heavy, even in the large, colorful room, she could find no joy. A rito servant, dressed in her native garb with hylian jewelry, brought her her afternoon snack. Impa caught the sight of the Queen's hand twitch, and she was sure that the queen was startled by the time. 

"Oh.. Thank you." She stood up, dusting off her skirts and walking with Impa to a quieter room, so ten plus guards could watch her eat. As she sat down, thanking and dismissing the Rito, Impa cleared her throat. 

"My Queen?" She said, arms crossed, clearly hesitant. 

Zelda took her tea, let the warmth soak into her hands. "Yes, Impa?" She said. (Still so young, just seventeen..)

"I couldn't mention this when the outcry happened, nor in front of the guards, but he left a note." She said, pulling out a sheet of paper, handwriting messily scrawled onto it. Either in a hurry, panic, or both.

She didn't scold her for keeping it a secret, catching on that Impa read it already since it was opened. "I..I see.." Impa watched her wrinkle the edges, pulling it open. "I need to read this.. Don't I?" She asked, looking to her eternal nursemaid and protector. 

The sheikah nodded, "Yes. He wrote it for you, and.. You'll understand him a bit better than you do know. Please."

She turned her eyes to the paper, ignoring the standard of keeping up presentations and kicking off her heels to pull her feet up into her ornate yet not uncomfortable chair that matched the room. 

 

 

 

> **My Queen**
> 
> **I know my sudden departure will hurt you. I'm aware you aren't the cause nor the reason for my imprisonment, and I bear no ill will to you. You are my princess, my queen, like my.. little sister, if I can be informal. All those years ago, when I said I'd do anything for you, I meant it. I don't know how to say any of this softly, I think I may have lost that sometime in those five years. But.. I'm hurt. I can't stay here. I feel like I'd be living a lie if I tried to return to how things were.. And I wouldn't be wrong. I am not the same. I can't not remember what it felt like down there, in the shadowy parts of Hyrule, to be the blood on it's hands for a change.**
> 
> **I need to leave.**
> 
> **It hurts so much to leave Hyrule, my home, but my home has hurt me. I'll return one day when I'm called by destiny. But until then, forget me so as to avoid grief.**
> 
> **I am not going to a burden to you, to Impa, nor to anyone else. I will get my strength back on my own, and I will relieve you of your burdens. Take care of Hyrule, I can take care of myself. It's going to be okay. I promise.**
> 
> **Link**

Zelda stared at the piece of paper for far longer than necessary. She closed her eyes, tears leaking and she sobbed. Impa laid a hand on her back, repressing her own. "He's such an idiot..! Impa..Is it bad I'm not surprised?" She laughed softly, pain eating her chest. "That night.. That.. When he was taken.. I had a dream. Where I was swallowed by darkness.."

"The one you've had over and over again?" Impa asked softly.

"Yes.. When I'm picked up by him, and carried to bed, tucking me in.. I always tried to ask him to stay.. But."

She brushed the queen's hair, stepping to her front. "He leaves.."

"Mhm..I always thought it was meant to mean his five years.. But I had it again last night. This time, when he carried me, he was limping. He was scarred and hurt, and I couldn't.. I couldn't help him. He put me to bed, left the candle light on and.. He was gone."

Impa frowned, caressing her face. "Chin up, Queen Zelda. His light is still there. You aren't alone. And you have a kingdom to run." She took the note from her, urging her to drink her tea. "Now's not the time to sulk. Show him you can take care of this world, and maybe he'll let you take care of him for once, okay? One step at a time."

"Yes.. Yes of course.. I'm so sorry Impa.."

 

His eyes drifted open, the sky long since gone dark with the moon high in the sky. His eyes wandered over to the mass next to him, seeing the horse sleeping next to him. He moved to sit up but found himself hurting at the movement. "Oof.." He eased himself back to relax, staring at the sky. He felt his bones weigh with his actions, his heart drowned in.. something. And his mouth was dry.

He smacked his lips, wincing at the skin pulling apart. He glanced at the stream, realizing it was a good few yards away. He shifted his head and felt something clank in his bag. Ah.. The bottle. Of course. He forced himself to sit up, gritting his teeth through the effort. No adrenaline nor holy force preventing him from feeling how bad he felt. He decided he'd take in the damage after he got a drink. He pulled open his bag, shoving the extra clothes, bandages, compass and map around until he found the glass bottle. It was damn sturdy, he thought, to last through whatever the hell he'd call his escape.

He uncorked the bottle with some effort, doing his best to not spill it. He lifted it to his lips, taking a sip to wet his palate. It felt nice, to have something other than grimy water or sour fruit juice when he was especially stubborn. He forced himself to only sip, knowing if he did more, it would be gone too fast. (Even the sour things went down too fast.)

He finished his drink, leaving half of it for later, feeling at least.. A bit better. 

His eyes turned to his body, and he frowned. He didn't want to see himself, to accept what state he was in. But he needed to if he was going to survive. 

Starting with his feet, he was glad he didn't wear boots. His ankle had swollen to almost the size of his fist. He slipped off his singular shoe, missing the other one already. He rubbed it, feeling pain shooting up his leg. Nothing was protruding, and the skin wasn't broken, so he figured rest would cure it. Upwards on his body, he had plenty of bruises, a particularly nasty one on his ribcage. Something might be broken, but you can't set a broken rib.. That he knew of, anyways. 

Suddenly, he wished he had medical training. 

His arms were.... Scarred.. Badly. But he didn't have anything immediately terrible with them besides the ache they had when moving.

All in all, he figured he was okay. Maybe not great, but he could handle this. Pain was something he and his past selves knew too well. Just.. Leaning that pain elsewhere besides his own feet was something he never could seem to get down. 

Link knew he was probably missing his back, but he couldn't see it, so he shrugged it off. It would matter if it became a problem to him. 

As for now.. He looked to the horse, petting it's side. What to call it..? He checked it's reigns, wondering if the owner gave it a specialized set. After a moment and fiddling around, the horse woke up, turning it's head to him and snorting. "Sorry for waking you.." He whispered, taking it's muzzle into his hands. "You're a pretty one. Why not Riko?" He muttered, thinking of Kakariko village, where he spent a good deal of his childhood training, hard to find unless you were with a.. (Red eyes)

"No. Ordon. Simple." He ignored the chill down his spine. 

Ordon puffed air at him, and he figured that settled it, watching as it laid it's head back down. 

He laid back, closing his eyes. He thought he'd be hungry by now, but he didn't feel it. Instead, he sank back into a deep sleep.

 

Days had past. He didn't spot any large groups of knights, no soldiers, just caravans travelling from town to town. He avoided them all in order to keep to himself, eating easy to reach apples and sharing with Ordon. It wasn't ideal but he didn't mind the simplicity. His ankle had recovered from his recklessness, enough he could limp on it with the help of his companion. At first, Ordon was hesitant to let him back on when the day was getting hotter, but after some coaxing, it allowed him back on. 

He was pretty sure the horse would kick him off if he tried to push it as hard as he did before.. Ah, and he also found out Ordon was a girl. To be fair, that wouldn't cross his mind, until he realized people may ask about her.

Not wanting to miss any bases, he took note of her appearance and decided he'd stick with Ordon for her. It was just weird enough to match his appearance that no one would really think too much about it. As of right now, he was walking on the road, one hand holding her reigns, with the other free. He didn't have his map out, just walking where the road took him. (he knew where he was. He'd seen all of Hyrule before he hit ten, and his soul already knew it like it was etched into very his being.)

The wind picked up, and he could smell the moisture, and felt it on his skin. It was going to rain. And if the wind were to be trusted, it would be heavy and hard.

His mind snapped to the nearest town. He'd have to back track quiet the ways, but if he was fast, he could make it to the Exchange town, a common rest stop for caravans and a great place to get things.. If he had any money. He frowned as he mounted Ordon, getting a snarky snort in response to him trying to urge her to turn around.

He could earn money, somehow. 

 

"As it turns out, we can fit you somewhere. You don't look much for fighting," The man with a thick accent and equally thick eyebrows eyed him up and down, sharp yellow eyes barely lingering on his scars,(why is this man the only one) "but your horse there looks mighty strong. I can buy 'er from you fo-"

Link shook his head quickly, "No."

"Huh... Aren't you rude? You didn't even hear my proposal." The man asked, arching a brow yet grinning at him, soaked to the bone as he stood in his tent. It was clearly a jab to see if he would be provoked. 

Link definitely disagreed, but his eyes weren't going to give that away, staring nonchalantly at the caravan leader. The man was broad, muscular yet chub hanging off of him, making Link well aware he indulged yet took his work seriously. It's why he walked into this tent, instead of the others. 

"You're a weird one. But you don't waver, and we need that where we're going. Too many soft Hylians around here for my liking, not to mention actually get the job done." He pointed to Link. "We leave in three days. You'll pull a wagon along with us. I'll give you an allowance for the three days, buy what you need and not what you don't. If you can handle yourself in a fight, you'll get more in the end. Sound fair for a newbie?" 

He didn't think it was that fair, but he didn't have any other options. He nodded, crossing his arms, together, only slightly bothered by the skin rubbing against cloth. The other man stood, easily towering over six feet and handed him a bag of what he presumed to be rupees. (Was he holding that this entire time?) He took the sack with his right hand, avoiding using his left purposefully, eyes lingering on dark skin.

It's one thing to do business with a gerudo, but another to work with the one male that was born in the last few hundred years. As tradition, he was named Ganondorf, much to the dismay of the people he worked with. At least, those who knew.

See.. Link had been walking around town when he heard about the male Gerudo running a trade. How could he not stop to listen? Even if he was a normal person, he'd stop. Surely, this would be fate. It was one of his most trusted compatriots, a female gerudo who smelled strongly of blue nightshade. (he knew it had a faint smell naturally, meant to mask someone's natural scent. This was strong.) She spoke sweetly to the hylian farmhand, caressing his face. 

"Yes..My boss is a lovely man. He knows what he's doing. Hiding from sight... Keeping eeevveryone at arms length, besides his dear old sisters. Letting us handle the people while he does the business. Doesn't that sound wonderful to you? I think so." She tipped his chin up toward her, towering over him. "Would you like to meet him?"

That was when, of course, Link stuck himself into the conversation.

Sure, Ganondorf was mad at his sister, eyes piercing her till she pouted and he sighed. It was.. Clear this wasn't her first time spilling the beans to swoon someone. 

So Link simply just asked for a job. He didn't introduce himself or anything. (Would recognition flash through those yellow eyes? Was he so maimed that this man didn't recognize him?) 

And now he was working for him, not knowing if he would be the man of legend or if he was simply just unlucky to be named as such. He was aware many gerudo feared having a male child and would... get rid of them, and he wondered if his sisters somehow saved him for him to deal with their very poor oath to secrecy.

Link turned to leave, one shoe on and the other barefoot, when the gerudo put a hand on his shoulder. "Wait."

He jumped, hard enough that the Gerudo noticed. "You need new clothes and shoes if you're going to work for me. I have standards, boy. For that matter, I need your name and your horse's name to write the contract." 

The hero shifted uncomfortably, the man's hand warm through the wet clothing. "That's.." He didn't want to give it away. That he was afraid. "Fair. It's Ordon... The horse." 

He went silent, and when the gerudo realized he wasn't going to speak without a prompt, he sighed, scarily unsurprised. (and not angry, just calm, and he didn't recognize that emotion on him.)

"I know what you're thinking. No one will mess with you if you're working with me, but if you fear some old legends, I have to rescind my offer. I need people to trust, and since you know my face and name... I need to know yours." Link stared at him, feeling something in his chest he didn't want to say. 

Link chuckled, shaking his head slowly. "Legends.. Huh? If you.. Think so." His voice was raspy, tired. The twitch of his brow let Link know he noticed it. "Link. That's my name."

It was oddly cathartic to see a flash of fear and recognition in his eyes, that was nearly imperceptible. But he had so many life times face to face with him, when he was winning, when he was losing, to see him as he was. 

"I'm not a hero." Link locked onto his eyes. Yellow, to him, were much less frightening than red.

"And I'm no demon king."

"And Zelda's not a princess."

Ganondorf stared at him, this time lingering on what he looked like, his scars, and his hair. He shook his head, weariness weighing on him. "Right. Well, you don't fear legends, boy, but you certainly need to fear my wrath if you're still wearing that getup in five minutes. Go get something worth traveling in, and come back. There are.. Topics. We need to discuss."

Link shrugged at him, taking his time to walk out and find a tactile shop. He wouldn't be back in five minutes, but he would take care to not take too long. He wondered if, at this point, he just didn't care.


	3. Thoughts

Nighttime had swallowed the foreign land, crickets with low chirps and birds that sang only to the moon above had kept him company for the past four years. Working in a caravan was tougher than he thought, especially when entering a new land. Trade was flourishing and their goods were wonderful oddities to the strangers they came across. In their trade, they went from a land of fashion, to a land on islands hard to reach, and back again.

New routes each time, made in order to sell maps to unify the ever expanding connected world. They were currently in smaller groups, Ganondorf deciding that most of his sisters could travel alone and help him map the full earth, to garner every rich they could and bring it home.

As the young man swung his legs back and forth on top of a branch, over his charge, he chowed down on a baked apple. Recently, he'd taken to trying seasonings on apples to see how well they mesh together, and found something from Hytopia to be the best. A ground up concoction similar to yet not cinnamon. Always better with sugar.

His clear eyes wandered down to the man far beneath him, asleep in a bag. The forest was too thick here to set up tents, and Link always opted to wake up early for dawn watch. The sun rising made him feel something he hadn't in a long time. 

Easily, now, he could smile. Even in odd clothing that would have been too feather light on his skin in the distant past, even with it creating no noise unlike his chain main... It felt familiar to him, a comfort. He had healed thanks to the Gerudo's mages and potions, and even more so as they traveled. 

He shifted carefully in the branch, like a cat. His clothes made no sound, silk-like cloth keeping him warm in the chilly weather. His eyes scanned the area slowly, taking a slow bite from his snack. On his face was a hawk like mask, letting him zoom in and inspect anything he could imagine.

The few times they had ran into trouble along their journey, Link had stepped up to the plate, determined to prove his worth. Countless times he would intercept an attack or call out at the first sign. It earned him enough respect and esteem that he had been promoted to a guard, of all things, to Ganondorf. Even after the rocky start, with him being late and shutting down much interaction.. The gerudo man seemed intent on making him open up and advance.

The Goddesses and gods had to be shaking in their boots; their hero, interacting with the resurrection of evil? It should be baffling yet he couldn't find it in himself to do anything but laugh. For the two years he had been on this journey, he hadn't seen hide nor hair of the wickedness he was supposedly meant to end. The smile on his face hurt.

Then, below, he heard rustling. Of metal and chains.

He glanced downward and far to the east. The sun was at least an hour away, yet the sky was turning a pink already. Giving him just enough light, he could see a group of strangers entering their camp. He scoffed, gripping his apple and aiming it south of them. He let it fly, immediately hopping down to the ground. He felt the magic in his cape slow his rapid descent, the rocs' feathers lining the hem glowing a soft yellow until his feet hit the ground. 

He pulled out his bow and arrow, hearing the apple crash into a thin paper bark tree at the same moment, enough to draw attention away from their camp. With a practiced ease, he shot three arrows at their legs, the hawk lens on his eyes making the shot almost trivial when he pinned them. He called out, voice gritty and cracky, yet full of confidence. "Hoy! Who goes there?" 

Naturally this awoke the sleeping Ganondorf, who had apparently not been sleeping well as he was already standing up, his eyes almost glowing in the dawn hours. "Reveal yourselves, thieves."

The rest of the camp began getting up, metal screeching out from scabbards from nearly all around. There were only a few of the strangers, each with a helmet over their heads.

Quickly, one raised their arms in a panic. "Please! Peace! We only meant to identify you!" 

Ganondorf stepped up past Link, in his travelling night robes, something that made Link smell the ocean and feel his feet rock as if he were on a boat. "In these hours? I can't say I believe you. Identify yourselves or you will suffer consequences."

The one that had spoken pulled up his helmet, revealing a typical... Hylian. 

Link couldn't remember the last time he had seen another one; while he had met others similar to his race, they were all.. Off, in some fashion. This person, however, bore the sharpened ears. He could already taste the bile on his tongue, and he watched as Ganondorf tensed up in front of him. Neither of them liked this.

"Peace! We are soldiers with an assistant sheikah searching for a caravan with the man called Link." 

He let out a slow breath, fist tightening around his bow. He could feel his body beginning to tremble, and he was thankful for Ganondorf, who blocked most of him with his body. "And why, in the name of Din and her snakes, do you think we'd believe that in such early hours of the day?"

The solider swallowed, looking to one of the other pinned people who Link could tell had red eyes. Link turned his head away and wished silently that he didn't have his sight enhancing object. "We're in desperate need. Ganon has returned to Hyrule, and resting.. Wasn't an option."

Silence enveloped them, and the gerudo traders with them all seemed confused. There was no way; their king, their boss, was here, and definitely _not_ as Ganon.

"Why should we care?" 

The words left the tall man's mouth, his yellow eyes burning with hate. Link had learned that it wasn't for him a long time ago; they had glowed like this after he found out why Link was so severely maimed when they first met. When he saw one of his girls killed because she dressed like a man and someone mistook her as a bad omen. When he saw Link's scars, both mental and physical. 

His eyes glowed with such disdain, such reprehensible hostility because of what he saw as injustice. Link no longer feared that look so much as respected it; he wondered if that was the look he bore when he cut down the damned king?

The solider seemed stunned for a moment, and stood up straight, scowling at him. "Because, sir," His voice became exasperated, "The castle is dying. The land is in danger. People are dying." 

Almost like a whip, Ganondorf retorted, "And what of my people? You must be able to tell I'm a gerudo. It's why you sought our caravan, is it not? Our land needed trade, yet I've had to make deals outside of Hyrule to gain fair trade. People were dying. The land was barren. Our culture was stagnating." He laughed softly, his cockiness not one to hide. "No thanks to you. I've made the connections myself, and Gerudo town has prospered."

Link stood up straighter, putting up his bow and crossing his arms as he stood at Ganondorf's shoulder. He was covered from head to toe in gear that he had collected, unable to be recognized as a hylian. "Ganon cannot be reincarnated now." He said, eyes flicking to the man next to him. "There's no way."

The solider bristled, and before he could speak, the sheikah placed a hand on his shoulder. She removed her hood and helmet, reaching down to free herself from his arrow. "Perhaps, stranger. But it is the case; we know not how he's back, yet he is. We know not where the hero is, as he's exiled..." Her red eyes looked at his, as if seeing him beyond the mask. "Just that the queen had a premonition, yet couldn't prepare properly without her hero. She fought bravely, and her fate is unknown." 

Link could tell his hands went numb, and he could feel the rigidness that bore into Ganondorf's being. He still despised the Queen; Link still saw her as that little girl almost a decade ago. 

He reached up and removed his disguise, the sheikah woman being the only one of the few who didn't flinch at his appearance. 

"So you are Link?"

He sighed, looking away. "It seems to be the case, yes." He looked at the sheikah, ignoring the soliders. He assumed they were only there because the council didn't trust the sheikah to do holy work alone; only the bloody, where they could keep their hands clean. "And this, here, is the proof of your lie. Ganondorf, reincarnated." He nodded at the older man who grinned at the small troop.

He let them gape at him with perturbed looks. Even the sheikah seemed shocked, and her first words turned sharp against Link.

"So, you followed this man, chosen? One destined to bring Hyrule to ruin?" She spat, and Link could see the hate in her eyes. 

He felt himself shake his head before his mind caught up. "No..That's.. The ones bringing ruin to Hyrule," He stepped forward, past the quiet gerudo, who seemed content to let this play out. "Are you. Those who pin it on others to take care of everything." 

"The council, who were content to let the King rape his daughter. The very same people telling me to leave until, and only until, I was needed when they were in danger." Link stopped in front of them, anger fueling him. "You, who could track a caravan two countries away, expect me to find Zelda. You, who want me to save you, despite not doing anything to help me when I was outcast." 

His eyes lingered on the sheikah, "When I was _tortured_. Yet, when I came to him, Ganondorf, he knew who I was. Yet he still hired me on, and dammit if I'll let any of you insult the one person I've met who didn't just sit around and do _nothing, expecting me to do it!_ " 

In the distance, he could hear the birds going quiet, and he knew the sun had begun its ascent. A distant thought registered in his mind about the light breaking through the forest walls. "I'm following him, because he's leading me somewhere that isn't my own ruin." 

With that, Link spat at the sheikah, who had gone red in the face. She hissed at him, wiping off his spittle and pulled a dagger out. "To arms! We'll take him with up whether he likes it or not!"

It was only a brief clash. Link, drawing a sword. Ganondorf, raising his hand. The Gerudo immediately leaping against the out numbered troop.

The burst of dark magic ate the sunrise, and the enemies before him screamed before any one of their attacks connected.

Link felt his energy leave him as his body collapsed. Was he hit in the blast too? He didn't feel any impact, but..

As he tried to reason out what happened, everything went dark and quiet. He fainted.

* * *

 

_Sitting around the fireplace, Link's eyes grew heavy. Not too long ago, he had gone days without sleeping, but now he was unable to stay awake. He felt little else but pain, even huddled against a soft couch and wrapped up in Gerudo satin, thick yet slick enough to keep him warm. The other traders had opted to party; they were in the bar, something about needing a taste of home before they ventured out into the unknown. He figured they just wanted to get drunk, as he could hear the raucous laughter through the inn's walls despite being made of stone. He closed his eyes, dozing off. He was so nervous that he would be taken back, but he couldn't find it in himself to stay awake._

_Until there was a knock at his door._

_He blinked, squinting against the firelight and yawning. He kept the blanket around him as he stood, thankful for the air-like night clothes he had been gifted. It felt like nothing against his skin, but did some good for modesty. He limped to the door, reaching over and gripping the door frame tightly._

_He cracked open the door to meet with blazing yellow eyes, and he almost slammed the wooden door shut on instinct. Instead, he opened it wide wordlessly, letting in Ganondorf. In his hands were two mugs, steaming and smelling vaguely of apples._

_Ganondorf had a smug smile on his face, stepping in and closing the door with a foot. He walked over to the couch, already expecting the Hylian to follow, which he did. Link made sure to sit as far as he could from the tanned man._

_Holding out the mug to Link, he spoke softly, as if he was trying not to spook a horse. "Here. This ought to cheer you up."_

_Link took it hesitantly. He couldn't remember the last time he had a warm drink. He sniffed it before he took a sip, pleased to taste the apple cider. He was sure there was a bit of alcohol in it, but nothing that would get him like.. Well, the others._

_"Thank you." He murmured, eyes locking onto the liquid inside of the cup. "You.. didn't have to."_

_"Aye, well. We take care of our own." He took a deep drink from his mug, and Link wondered if he had any alcohol in his. "Which you are of us, now. At least, until you disprove yourself." He gave him a sideways smile that made his stomach crawl._

_Link shook his head, "Good to see you have some kind of faith in me."_

_The larger man chuckled, "Likewise. You barely hesitated to drink up." He leaned deep into the couch, reclining in a way that he could somewhat face Link. "You'll have a few chances, assuming none of your fails involve trying to kill me."_

_He kept quiet, sipping with his eyes closed. He didn't particularly care about what, when, how, or why. Just something to do._

_Ganondorf seemed to sense this as he took a drink, a long pause between speaking and silence._

_"So, Link."  The elder noted Link's slight nod of approval, "Tell me.. Why are you in this state?"_

_There was a moment of brief tension. Link didn't want to talk about it, but he couldn't exactly hide it._

_"I killed someone." He muttered, voice low and surprisingly dangerous. "The bastard called a King."_

_Of course, this admittance got a harsh laugh from the King of Evil. "Aye, boy. That may be something our souls have in common," He winked, all too proud of that fact, "But I meant the state of your body. Why do you look like you've been left in the sands for ages?"_

_Link opened his eyes to look at him, pursing his lips. Perhaps, with anyone else, he'd have clammed up. But this was someone he's killed and been killed by many times. Nothing could possibly be hidden from such a soul. "I was tortured as punishment."_

_The older man stayed put, not saying a word and looking at him expectantly. Link scowled, but continued. "The sheikah were ordered to keep me able to function, not to maim what's necessary to.. Save Hyrule. But anything else was game." He reached up to his destroyed ear. "All because I did my duty to protect the princess."_

_They drank in silence for a few moments more, Link emptying his cup and setting it on the hard floor._

_"I see." Link watched as the flames seemed to grow, flickering a brief blue before returning, the taste of magic biting his tongue. "Well, Link. I think you should know; I wasn't born again, not conventionally. I was brought back from the dead, and into the body of a gerudo child male." He set down his mug. Link leaned back and closed his eyes, once again dozing off, now aided by the drugged drink._

_"And I do intend to rule Hyrule, destroy it first if I have to. And I'm thinking I want you on my side, this time."_

* * *

 

 

When Link woke up, he felt heavy. His arms were lead. He tasted blood on his tongue. He slowly opened his eyes, only to find he was surrounded by darkness. He sat up slowly, stomach turning slowly in agony. He felt for the ground, confused when his hand didn't connect with anything. He moved to stand, and felt his body begin to float. 

He reached for his lantern on his belt, feeling its handle tilted toward the sky. He pulled it out, anxiously lighting the oil fueled lantern. 

It lit, for certain. The fire was there. But all around him lay nothing. Only an impenetrable darkness. 

Fear struck his insides, like ice crawling through his veins. He spun around, like he was in water. Nothing besides darkness and himself. He checked to realize he still had his equipment, since he still had his lantern he figured everything else would be there.

His eyes gazed out into the darkness; it was familiar, his mind flickering back to the years spent in that cell. 

"Hello? Is anyone there?" He called, voice swallowed whole with no echo.

There was nothing in reply. Nothing to do, besides try and move. His lantern wouldn't last forever.

Much like a child learning to swim, he paddled forward in the darkness, unsure if he was even moving. He wondered where this place could be? His mind sprang out a few ideas. Lorule? The dark realm? The twilight? 

Of course not; all of those places were still... places. This was something else; the opposite of a place. It made him think of an ancient evil, long before Ganondorf or even Vaati. Demise? That sounded right. Like the weird plane with water and lightening, yet with much less to go on.

 

He didn't know how long he had been going for. His body still felt heavy and pain, aches appearing all over from his quest. His lantern died some time ago. All he could make out was that it felt thicker, harder to move. Each movement became like sludge, then mud, then like he was against a wall.

Then his feet hit something. Gravity returned to normal. His knees collapsed beneath him, exhausted. 

Then the world became light again, and he felt air rush into his lungs.


	4. Day and Night

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Why, of all things, do people want to make terrible things happen? 
> 
> Because it's interesting to talk about?  
> Because it means they aren't the subject of their bullying?  
> Because they can?  
> There's too many possibilities.
> 
> But for sure, the one who makes bad things happen for the right reasons can't be the bad guy. Right?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just saying, I don't intend to abandon this at all, I just have to be in the proper headspace for this since it does deal with such heavy shit, and it deals with vent stuff. 
> 
> Though I like to imagine Link's hearts going up and down with each section. Such as when he escaped Hyrule castle, he was on the last quarter of a heart. As of right now... they're probably being sapped away...

Ganon. 

No, not Ganondorf, but Ganon. Its eyes, red and full of hate, body a writhing mass of demons crawling together to form a grotesque beast in the shape of a bipedal boar that stood at least fifty feet tall and twenty wide. As canons fire into its raging form, creatures of evil fall into the city outskirts below. Foot soldiers fighting, screaming, trying to keep the monsters at bay that skitter out and meet steel ends of swords. Sometimes, the mass of demons freezes and curls in on itself, losing its form. Like it lost its mind, the coordinator lost or shot dead, until another demon takes its place and the beast resumes its fight.

It moves slowly, but where its hooves land seep away the life in the earth. Most of the villages and cities had been evacuated, thanks in part to being able to see the large beast from most watch towers. From where he was standing, atop Castle town's defensive walls, he had a clear view of the monstrosity.

The royal guard's leader, Link's father, had been slowing it down since it had first been spotted coming from beneath an old, forgotten temple in the south. Days had turn to weeks, nearly months now, and with use of magic from other races and joint attacks, they had managed to keep it at bay or rerouting it.

Until now, it hadn't been able to reach the castle. Now, however, it was close. His army was tired and scared; who wouldn't be at the monster before them? With their Queen missing, he had no idea how to handle this besides hoping his small team of trackers found Link and didn't cause any trouble for him.

The older man watched the beast slowly stepping forward toward his city. He gritted his teeth. Behind him, he heard a sigh. 

He cocked his head to see Impa, dressed in atypical Sheikah fighting gear; uncommon since they did their deeds in the shadows. 

"Impa." He said, less of a statement so much as a somber greeting. "The news?"

Impa pursed her black painted lips together, red eyes locked onto the beast. She stepped forward, removing a piece of paper that had something burned on it. 

Quietly, she spoke, "You know we sheikah are cautious. So, as a precaution, I gave my subordinate a spell that clung to her being." She looked to the weary guard, seeing him sweaty from the battle. His eyes were sagging; he was so tired. "That spell was meant to activate if Link came into contact with her. I got word that it activated a week ago, and that.. There were complications."

The guard looked at her, skeptically. "Cut to the chase. Beating around the bush isn't going to save us."

Impa steeled herself for her words, not entirely believing them herself. "Link had been with a caravan of Gerudo, yes? Two years known to be a simple rider, two years a guard, almost exactly to the date of his  _exile._ " She held out the paper, a letter from her underling. "He was working for a man named Ganondorf. And our people are, currently, being held as prisoners because Link disappeared."

The royal guard turned away, stepping away to hide his face. "The Goddesses must surely be laughing at us now." He murmured, clenching his eyes shut before returning to a stoic demeanor. "Right then. Locate Link, and maintain contact with our people. We can't risk losing more than we already have."

 

* * *

 

His arms shook, trembling as he found purchase on the ground. The dirt floor beneath him was scorched, the taste of magic burning his tongue. He coughed, feeling thick magic pour from his lungs, billowing out in clouds. Behind his ear screamed in pain, the mark of the sheikah eating at his focus.  The wind around him picked up, blowing away the last bit of dark magic from his being. 

Link wheezed, flopping to the ground and clutching the side of his head. He shuddered, tears prickling at his eyes as he laid there, hearing leaves rustle and birds beginning their chirps. The sun crawled over the sky above. The magic had hurt more than it should have; what even was that?

He couldn't tell how long he had been trapped, let loose in the other world. He sat up, panicking as he felt at his body, shocked to find himself dry. But it felt like he had been in water. He pushed himself up again, prying himself from the ground, opening his eyes to the world. He cringed at the brightness, shading his face to let himself adjust. 

He looked around slowly, first recognizing the trees. Thin, but thick treetops. Their bark a rich brown, and the birds a familiar sound. Off in the distance, he could see a large windmill.

He was near Kakariko. But.. How? 

Was that some sort of teleportation spell?

He stood up, wobbling for a moment before leaning against the tree. His gear weighed heavy on him, and he wondered if he was safe. But the lack of anything other than the birds and wind eased him; he was alone.

* * *

 

_Young, running through the fields of grain, he skipped over each little streamed he had memorized like a wolf splitting its way through its home. Even so young, he had the land embedded in his mind like it was an extension of himself._

_He grinned up to his father, who had come home for the week. He pulled the older man along, small hands enveloping large, calloused ones. "Come on! I have something to show you!" He laughed, and the older man laughed. Childlike and free._

_He had a small bag filled with bottles of soup, warm against his side, entering the wooded forest that smelled of honey suckled and sweet tree sap. "There's this place, it's pretty." He pulled out his wooden sword, pointing the tip far ahead of him. "Pink glowing butterflies and a woman who changes how she looks. She loves soup! And cute things!"_

_His father had laughed about imagination, expecting a picnic at a scenic location. He didn't expect to meet one of the few Great fairies left, who laughed at Link's enthusiasm. She seemed unphased at the new, older man like she had been expecting the visitors. She began to speak to him, mentioning she had heard about him from the little hero, who had freed her from a gang of beasts with cursed magic._

_"Monsters with magic and sporting cloaks, they pulled magic from me to fuel themselves. I had little hope, until this golden bouncing boy comes along and takes them out. My fairies rushed to his aid after we had enough power, and I can't explain the joy he showed when he found out what I was." She reached out to the older man. "I granted him use of magic when he came to my aid. This boy is kissed by destiny, the goddesses own chosen child, so he will certainly wield it well."_

_She leaned back in the air, giggling sharply as Link crawled up from the ground floor to her odd flower where she floated, vines and jingling clothes barely covering her. She took the soup, dipping a finger in and tasting it. "Not that I needed to do much, the youth had much of his own in reserves, waiting to be activated. I just... opened it up."_

_Link laughed, reaching out to her, taking her hand and easily floating up in the air. The man reached out for his child, concerned, and he too, floated upwards. The fairy whispered to him, leaning in close to his face, "Train him well; he has a hard life ahead of him. I read his future, and I'm eagerly waiting to see him again."_

* * *

 

Link remembered that it was only a short while later he was taken to Hyrule castle. He trained hard there to become a knight, when he became appointed the young Princess's guard. Which, really, was improperly labeled as he was more of a babysitter. Not that he'd complain, she was an utter joy to be around when she wasn't smarting off.

But here, he knew the land, and back then, the only thing that trained him was the desire to explore. The only history one of home despite the knowledge he was now closer to the sheikah than he felt comfortable with. He began walking, wandering the trees slowly, all of his equipment giving faint jingles. He had no way to contact Ganondorf or for that matter, anyone. There was a part of him that ached to have the man near him, a person who he had ironically grown to trust, and his absence left him feeling surprisingly vulnerable. 

 He shrugged that off, barely limping now as he went toward the windmill. He didn't have a plan. Not really, besides knowing he had to avoid the shady villagers. That stilled his steps, and he stared at the windmill. 

What was waiting there for him? 

That magic was certainly dark, and wrong. It could only be demons or sheikah. He felt anxiety rise in his veins.

No, he couldn't go there. But if not there, where to? 

Easily, he reckoned he'd go the the great fairy he once knew as a child. Turning from the village, Link made his way deep, deeper, yet even deeper into the forest. It wasn't long until he came upon the large flower, vines weaving from all around. He stepped up the toadstool steps, feeling the magic well up around him.

One could imagine his surprise when the fairy appeared, a large, dark crystal behind her. 

"Chosen child, good to see you again." She whispered, hair a deep purple now, vines withered and magic looking more like dark spores than orbs of light. "I see you've encountered the red eyed ones." 

Link stared dumbly at her. He opened his mouth, tilted his head, and reached out to her.

She retreated backwards, "Little spirit, do you know what has happened?" She asked, smiling thinly at him. "My sisters, and I, have all been tainted. Our magic put to use for nefarious purposes." 

His brows twisted tightly, and he could practically feel the magic being sapped elsewhere. "How..?"

"Because a Goddess requested it of us, we're feeding a great evil." She looked away, "Even now, I feel her request. But.." She looked back, smiling at him. She reached out, going to take his hand. It began to glow gold, and he flinched at the sight of his Triforce. "I can still aid you in some way."

His arm felt like fire engulfed it as she poured magic into him, his Triforce effectively eating it up. His mind went white with pain, and she cackled, though it sounded forced. Like she was in blissful pain.

It lasted a long moment, the sound of crackling thunder consuming his hearing, magic burning his taste buds and nose.

At the end, he collapsed to his hands and knees. His left hand-the one she had taken, was smoking but otherwise had no signs of magic or damage. He felt the flower shudder and quake, and it began to fall apart. He snapped his head up, seeing the crystal shattered, and no magic left.

Dazed, Link looked around, trying to understand. To comprehend. 

It dawned on him that she had forced out all of her magic to be purified by him, and that resulted in her..

* * *

 

 

At that moment, the beast creature howled, a scream inhuman and utterly guttural that shook the wall. 

The demon curled in on itself, plenty of its mass falling off and fading off into purple smog. For a brief moment, Impa saw a crystal inside of it. She furrowed her brow, but didn't get enough time to really see it before demons scrambled to cover it up once more. 

The royal knight cursed, glaring up to see the beast turning into a blob, jolting and jerking around as it tried to regain its composure.

"What's happening to it?" He muttered, squinting at it hard. 

Impa stared, opening her mouth for a moment before muttering, "I.. I don't know."

 


End file.
